Honey, Baby, Sweetheart
by cerebel
Summary: Someone is in Felix Gaeta's head. WIP.


_It's the day of the decommissioning ceremony, and Felix stirs awake at the feel of a hand gliding down his arm, breath tickling the skin on his shoulder. "Mmmm," and he turns his head into a long, lazy kiss, turning on to his back as the warm presence in his bed shifts above him, a hand next to his head._

_Finally the kiss breaks, and Felix's eyelids flutter open, to see Aaron Doral gazing down at him. "Morning, love," Doral greets softly, brushing his lips across Felix's again. Felix makes a soft noise into Doral's mouth, and his tongue slips along Doral's, gentle and teasing and ever so nice._

"_Remind me," Felix says into Doral's mouth, "why we don't do this more often?"_

_Doral laughs, and he nips Felix's ear, his fingers running up Felix's ribs. "You are so hot," he murmurs. _

_Felix grins and he shifts, pinning Doral to the bed beneath him. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asks. "I didn't quite hear you."_

_Doral moves up for a kiss, but Felix pulls back, just out of range, holding Doral's shoulder down. "Felix," Doral says, exasperated. _

"_No, I didn't hear you," Felix insists, the grin dancing around his mouth belying the words. "You're going to have to repeat yourself." _

_Doral quirks an eyebrow. _

_Felix feels Doral's hand shift, and he tries to catch Doral's wrist, but Doral wraps his hand around Felix's cock, slides it up towards the head in a kind of massaging glide. "Oh," Felix breathes, finding it suddenly difficult to think. Or breathe._

_And now it's Doral's turn to shift them, rolling Felix on his back, but never taking his hand away, and Felix just loves this. _

_Doral brushes their noses together, in a tease, holding back on the kiss, dancing just out of reach, until Felix groans softly. Doral seals their lips together, dragging the kiss so deep, and when he pulls back, he moves down to Felix's ear and whispers, "You are so hot."_

_Felix makes a pleading noise, and now Doral's mouth clashes with his, the temperature in the room rising._

_When Doral is inside him, Felix curled up, Doral's eyes are dark, and he murmurs, "I would stay like this forever."_

_Felix gasps, and his back arches, and he would too._

----

Felix is tired, so tired. It seems like he's been awake forever. He wonders when he's going to hit his limit, if he's going to go crazy and have to be dragged to sickbay. He wonders if he's simply going to collapse from exhaustion, because he can't move anymore.

He runs his fingers along the stubble on his face.

"Wake up," a voice snaps in his ear, and Felix snaps his head up. To his chagrin, he realizes the nav computer finished its calculations. When he last checked, it was at fifty percent…he must have dozed off – Felix looks around for whoever woke him up, but there's no one there.

The voice sounded almost like –

He hasn't seen Doral since before the jump past the red line. Since they left him on Ragnar Anchorage. He was a Cylon, Felix has to remember.

His stomach twists, and twists badly.

Felix swallows the rush of feelings, and he inputs the coordinates into the nav computer. The Galactica has to be ready to jump, on Adama's command. Again.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, and the world seems to sway around him.

"Ssh," comes a gentle reassurance, and a hand slides onto Felix's cheek. He looks up into Aaron's eyes. "We'll come for you," murmurs Aaron, in Felix's ear. "We'll kill you all."

"What?" Felix breathes.

"Mister Gaeta."

Felix snaps his attention to the Colonel. "Sir," he acknowledges.

"Prepare the ship for FTL jump," orders Tigh.

Felix nods, and begins jump procedure, still shaking off the illusion.

----

Doral shows up again just after the jump is over, easing on to the edge of Felix's console, crossing his legs. "I know you can see me," Doral says.

"Go away," Felix hisses.

"I'll be here," Doral says softly, "whenever you need me. _Lover_."

The nav computer beeps; the next jump is finished calculating.

----

After this jump, Felix relaxes into his chair.

And he jumps back up immediately as a hand caresses the back of his neck. "Check the draydis again," Doral says in his ear, an edge of…laughter? in his voice.

Felix runs his eyes over the blips, but there's nothing out of the ordinary. No unidentified ships, or unknown interference patterns…wait…

Dualla's voice floats from the other side of the bridge. "Strike my last," she says, "one ship missing and unaccounted for."

Now Felix sees it – a gap. A ship – the Olympic Carrier, by Dee's word, is gone.

Doral laughs. "Bound to happen eventually," he says. "You lost one."

Felix gets to his feet, and moves over to the conversation between Dee, Tigh and Adama, hoping to leave Doral behind, but the illusion follows him. "You know," Doral says conversationally, "your friend as good as killed everyone on that ship."

"It might not have been her fault," Felix cuts in.

"Imagine how scared they must have been," Doral continues. "Lambs to the slaughter."

"We'll never know now, will we?" Tigh snaps.

Gaeta shivers as he sits back down at his console.

"I'm curious," says Doral. "What exactly do you think I am?"

_My imagination_, Felix thinks, but he doesn't say it.

"Ever occur to you," and Doral lifts Felix's chin, so Felix is meeting his eyes, "that I might not be a delusion?"

Felix swallows the rush of panic.

"What if I'm broadcasting straight into your head?" That secretive smile that Felix always found so alluring before now just seems to dig the pit in his stomach deeper. "What if," and Doral leans closer, "_you're_ a Cylon?"

Felix shakes his head, wishing the illusion would go away. He's not delusional; it's just his imagination. He can will it away if he wants to.

Doral strokes his cheek – it feels so _real_ – and he kisses Felix on the forehead. "Do you know what they'd do to you," another kiss, to his temple, "if they found out," and on his cheek this time, "who you were sleeping with?" This time Doral brushes his lips across Felix's.

Felix focuses on the nav computer. Thirty minutes and counting.

"They'll _KILL YOU_!" Doral shouts in his ear, all of the sudden.

Felix jerks away, violently, and he nearly falls off his chair. He's almost certain everyone in CIC noticed that. Frak.

On the up side, at least he's a little more alert than he was before.

----

When Adama finally dismisses Felix, to go get some sleep, Felix is surprised that he's actually able to make it all the way to his rack under his own steam. He collapses on the bed without showering or changing, just with the knowledge that he has to sleep, _now_.

He feels a delicate kiss pressed to the back of his neck. "Rough day at the office, huh?"

"Leave me alone," Felix manages, in a whisper.

"Ssh." Doral's stroking touch is comforting, so comforting. "Go to sleep, I'll take care of you."

Felix drifts off almost immediately, soothed by the warm presence against him.

----

It's been days since Felix saw his Doral-illusion, and he's almost ready to write it off as a dream, in his overexhausted half-conscious state. He's had so much to deal with – the loss of the fleet's water supply, the management of coordinates for fifty different FTL drives – that he's managed to push Doral out of his mind almost entirely.

The hurt is still there, though, the question – was it something real, or was he manipulating Felix the whole time?

After his shift in CIC, Felix takes the daily reports to the Commander's quarters. Once he's inside, Adama nods for him to close the door.

"I'm assigning you to Doctor Baltar," Adama tells him, "to assist with the research he's doing, on a way to distinguish between humans and Cylons in human form." He looks up and regards Felix carefully, watching for his reaction.

"Ah, thank you, sir," Felix says.

"Did you really just thank him for giving you more work?" comes a voice from the corner. Felix freezes. No, no, no, no…

"I expect you to give him all the assistance he needs," Adama continues, "but don't let it interfere with your duties."

Felix gives a sharp nod. "I'll do my best, sir."

Doral steps towards Adama, behind him. "You'll do whatever Baltar says," Doral accuses. "You'll be his little lapdog." Doral's stare seems to penetrate past Felix's neutral expression, and Felix feels his heartbeat start to come faster.

"No," Felix says, and then his mind races, "I don't believe it will interfere with my duties, sir."

Adama nods. "Dismissed."

Felix throws a salute.

In the hallway, Doral follows him. "Did you think I was gone?" Doral asks, a smile dancing around his mouth.

"You're not real," Felix mutters, under his breath.

"I'm insulted," Doral says, "truly wounded." He looks over to Felix. "But, you're wrong. You will."

"I'm no one's _lapdog_," says Felix, in the same low tone, hoping to the Lords that no one is watching him right now.

"You are," Doral says, confidently. "Because you know you can't afford Baltar's attention. Not with me hanging around all the time." When Felix glances over, Doral smirks at him. "Not if there's any possibility that _you_ might be a Cylon."

"I'm not a Cylon," Felix says through gritted teeth, coming to a halt to face Doral.

"Maybe you aren't," Doral says, "but you don't know for sure."

Belatedly, Felix realizes that coming to a stop might not have been the best idea, especially considering he's now arguing with midair. He steps back and leans against the wall.

He's going insane. It's the only explanation.

----

Even so, he does just as Doral says. He shows unbridled enthusiasm at the prospect of working for Baltar, explained his intention to get more schooling through the military extension program – and, to his surprise, he begins to believe it. Baltar is a brilliant scientist, isn't he? He deserves Felix's admiration.

And Felix is privileged to be able to work on a project that will have such a huge impact on the state of the fleet. A surefire way to root out the spies…and, a voice in his mind adds, a surefire way to make sure that my blood never gets tested.

When Baltar curtly dismisses him with a very unsubtle, "Don't let me keep you", Felix steps back out into the hall.

Doral is leaned against the wall of the corridor, gazing at him.

Felix hesitates for a second, but that's the corridor he needs to use, so he steps past Doral.

Doral stops him, drags him around. "Remember," Doral hisses in his ear, "you might work with him, but you belong to me."

In the next instant, Doral is gone.

Felix manages to turn the aborted motion into a stumble, making it look like clumsiness. No one nearby seems to notice anything out of the ordinary. But he's shaken; he's badly shaken, and he can't stop looking over his shoulder, all the rest of the day.

----

That night, after Felix shuts the curtains on his rack, Doral curls on top of him and seals his lips to Felix's, sliding his tongue into Felix's mouth.

To his distant surprise, Felix doesn't protest. He doesn't try to push Doral away or even try not to respond to the kiss. The last few weeks, everything has just been too shocking, and Felix's body hungers, his pulse threads, and he _needs_ this touch. Doral senses it, and he strips Felix's clothing off with a gentle ferocity, an easy familiarity that's strange, too, all at the same time.

This isn't the Doral that Felix fell in love with, Felix thinks, but it'll do.


End file.
